By the 19th century, accepted methods of dealing with criminals had shifted, in this country and in much of the industrial world, from the physical tortures of medieval times to physical confinement as a mode of punishment. Early in the 19th century two distinct and competing methods of incarceration were in operation in the United States: The Pennsylvania System, developed by the Quakers many years before, involving the total isolation of prisoners in small individual cells, with occasional solitary release for exercise and hygiene, and occasional visits by clergy and such. Its competitor was the Auburn System, or congregate system, which became the forerunner of the modern penitentiary.
Not surprisingly, the Pennsylvania System, by its cruel isolation, mutilated prisoners in a way unacceptable even by 19th century standards. After much debate and experimentation, the system was discredited and abandoned by mid-19th century. Aside from its psychological cruelty, the Pennsylvania system cost, in 1833, eighteen times as much per inmate as the Auburn System.
Surprisingly, the Pennsylvania system seems to be making a small comeback in its classic form. In a desperate effort to isolate certain prisoners for their protection, or because of extreme recalcitrance, or uncontrollable gang influence, a few systems have sprung up that involve isolated cell life 24 hours a day, with occasional short periods of solitary exercise, shower, and other necessities. Two examples are at Pelican Bay in California, and the maxi-maxi facility at Elmira, N.Y., which suffered a riot in 1991. An inmate at Pelican Bay, recently interviewed on 60 Minutes, finds conditions so unbearable that he is seeking the death penalty in Texas on unrelated charges.
In fact, aside from these examples of entire facilities designed to isolate inmates, a substantial portion of inmates in standard, congregate institutions spend most or all of their terms in Protective Custody isolation. The total percentage of isolated inmates, at any given time, ranges from 4% to 17% in various states.
Isolate prisons are the exception. Most of the approximately 1.1 million state and federal prisoners in this country are in penitentiaries of the congregate form. This number represents a massive expansion of prison population from 285,000 in 1977. In addition to these 1.1 million prison inmates, over 500,000 are in jails, where they await disposition or serve short sentences. Beyond these are about three million people under probation or parole. The fact that the crime rate has reached record levels in tandem with prison population indicates that most of the people in the habit of committing serious crimes are not behind bars.
To expand prison capacity and the rest of the criminal justice system to accommodate additional millions is a financially daunting prospect. Typical costs for each additional convict-space are on the order of $100,000, and annual per capita expense is typically $20,000, with certain facilities, such as Rikers Island in New York City, running as high as $60,000 per year per inmate. It is worth keeping in mind that, very roughly, it costs the income of the average American wage earner to incarcerate the average prisoner, and each additional space runs for about the same amount as a new single family home.
Even with the massive expansion of prison capacity in recent years, the current systems seem perpetually on the verge of collapse. Most states, under court order to reduce crowding, resort to early release to a greater or lesser extent. Despite the current boom in prison construction, our 1.1 million guests are living under conditions designed for far fewer.
The "modern" penitentiary has a long and conflicted history and is a distillation of many influences: various penal theories; popular anger, compassion, neglect; wide ranges in fiscal capacity and will. The result is a high-security institution that effectively separates its dangerous population from the larger society, but cannot protect its members from each other. It is an extremely expensive and complicated institution, requiring a large cadre of corrections personnel. These guards enter into a strange and convoluted relationship with the convict population, a relationship that corrupts and brutalizes both sides. This relationship often involves the ordainment of "trusted inmates", or implicit deals with powerful gangs, resulting in hierarchies of power and favor. Extreme cycles of authority transfer, and the attendant corruption, inevitably lead to explosions. There have been about 300 prison riots in the last twenty years.
The modern penitentiary offers a host of tortures and punishments that society will readily admit it has no right to inflict on any person, regardless of his crime. The worst of these include personal and gang terrorism, extortion, rape, slavery, and murder. That society cannot, despite the unbelievable expense, guarantee the average convict against these horrors is a profound indictment. Pretending that deprivation of freedom is all there is to a prison sentence today is a dark hypocrisy. Insecurity is constant and pervasive, for strong and weak alike.
In recent decades the courts have taken an interest in prison conditions, and have mandated changes where conditions were deemed inhumane. Many of the worst systems have been improved, despite great institutional resistance, but a sense of futility has pervaded the process. There is a sense in the country, and among experts, that the courts are trying to reform a system that is fundamentally flawed.
I believe that a fresh look at penitentiary design is called for. The question I wish to pose is this: assuming that the criminal is to be confined, can we devise a system that, as its guiding principle, incorporates many of those positive aspects of confinement that contribute, in the ordinary citizen, to the improvement of his life; and conversely, can we dispense with those aspects of confinement that are pointlessly destructive of life and spirit, and in the end do not serve any of society's purposes in incarceration? In other words, can prisons be designed so that confinement leans more toward the quality of discipline rather than torture?
The system I propose, which will be referred to herein as Self Sufficient Isolation (SSI), has the following strategy:
A) To physically (but not otherwise) isolate inmates from each other.
B) To design an environment for each inmate rich, varied, and flexible enough to permit him, given will and discipline, to better himself under conditions of relative dignity.
C) To make the system affordable to construct and maintain.
The system I envision, and which I will elaborate in detail, is relatively cheap, at least as effective from a security standpoint, and infinitely more humane than present methods. It is a system that a person could leave his mother in for two months without concern (but not, perhaps, without recriminations), and yet can accommodate the most dangerous inmates.
The key to the malignancy of today's prisons lies in permitting convicts to congregate. Just as small amounts of relatively benign radioactive material become dangerous when brought together, convicts who are relatively easy to deal with individually suddenly require extraordinary precautions when massed. If congregation could be eliminated without bringing back the horrifying effects of isolation, I believe we would have the basis of a new order with unthought of benefits.